


Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Timeless

by RiskAltair



Category: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 06:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16529567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiskAltair/pseuds/RiskAltair
Summary: An amnesiac Treecko awakens in a post-apocalyptic world, with one goal in mind - to retrieve his memories and learn about his past. But as he digs deeper into his origins, he uncovers secrets that threaten to unravel the world he's been placed in.





	1. Prologue

_Castor_

**Prologue**

There was once when this was so much more beautiful, he thought.

As Castor stared at the wasteland beyond, he recalled a time from before The End. Once, there was lush and verdant greenery as far as the eye could see, a gentle breeze brushing past rustling leaves and swaying grasslands, the sounds of young Pokémon running, chasing each other across the fields in what some would consider to be time-wasting activities. If he closed his eyes and ignored reality, for a moment, Castor could transport himself back there, and see the world for what it once was, perfectly imperfect.

But that vision would never hold more than a precious few seconds. Blackened stumps and an endless expanse of dust and rock now laid there, an inhospitable wasteland devoid of life and resources. No water, no food, no Pokémon. Few survived that fateful day, and those that did now huddled together in small sanctuaries where they could survive off what remained.

Not much. Not enough. Castor’s sanctuary, a mere two hours from where he was, had been rationing resources for the past three years. Even then, it took all of their combined efforts at scavenging to sustain their tiny population of fifty-three. Not a single day passed without someone going to sleep unsatisfied and hungry.

Nothing was here, as expected. Castor picked up his staff and moved on. He hugged his cloak tightly, desperate for the little warmth that it provided. Even when light, the wasteland was a cold and desolate place, though that was reflective of the entire world at this point. What little warmth remained came from the fire Pokémon that kept the hearths of the sanctuary lit.

The sun had tilted towards the western horizon. He had about five hours remaining before dark would come, and he would have to return before then or risk freezing to death, buried in dust. Even as his limbs pained from ache and fatigue, the hunger of his people motivated him. He had to keep going, he had to find more. There had to be someone, something out there that he and his scouts had yet to discover. The world was so vast, it could’ve been possible.

But some part of him knew it to be false. For none could escape the wrath of a Legendary.

As he walked, Castor’s thoughts proved to be unpleasant company. Alone and without anyone to talk to, Castor had spent much of his time pondering, thinking, especially when out on his regular scavenger trips. What the survivors now came to know as ‘The End’ was a memory permanently burned into the eyes of his mind, forced to replay it over and over again.

The majestic sight of the God-King Arceus. The glimmer of hope in thinking that he had come to right the wrongs of the world, to save the innocent and just and put an end to the chaos, the wars. And how that hope shattered, replaced with despair as the world burned. Beams of radiant light that bombarded the earth, ravaging all who stood upon it. Never before would Castor have associated light with death, radiance with destruction.

Now, it was a connection he found far too hard to break.

It was another hour before the monotony of the wasteland was broken. An endless expanse of dust and death interrupted by the silhouette of a stone pillar jutting out from the ground, tall and defiant of all that surrounded it. Castor rushed to its side, hopeful of finding something, anything. And he did. Though whether it was useful, was yet to be seen.

The pillars, half-toppled, stood amidst a field of stone debris, haphazardly scattered blocks worn away by dust and sand. The pillars stood as if they once held up a stone roof, which was half-buried in the dust. Castor stepped around the debris, unable to hold back a slight fascination with his discovery. It had been a while since he had found anything but wasteland, much less a piece of architecture, broken though it may have been.

The roof had intricate carvings on its side, a mural that depicted one of the Legendary Pokémon being worshipped, with other Pokémon bowing before its glory. The mural was faded, enough that Castor could not make out who it was dedicated to. It was clear, though, that he now stood in the ruins of a temple. A little bit more searching uncovered something even more peculiar, a flight of stone steps descending into the earth, comparably unscathed.

A place untouched may still have supplies from before The End, Castor thought, descending the steps whilst illuminating the darkness with a dimmed flash of light emanating from his hand. The light revealed the murals on the sides of the walls, telling a continuous story through its pictures. Writings below the drawings no doubt outlined the story in clearer detail, though even Castor could not read the ancient scripts.

At the bottom of the steps, the cramped corridor opened up into a grand central chamber, with similar pillars holding up the ceiling. Toppled candelabra were scatted across the floor while a shattered glass chandelier lay near the centre of the room. A thick layer of dust covered the ground and hung in the air, causing Castor to cough as he gingerly explored the room. At the centre of the room was a giant rectangular pedestal, and though Castor got the feeling that a statue of the worshipped Legendary once stood there, it was now abandoned and unoccupied.

A number of corridors led away from the main chamber, though without any labels and sense of familiarity with the place it was hard for Castor to determine which path to take. Heading into a random hallway, he found that they were lined with smaller rooms, doors left ajar. Inside each room was an almost identical set-up: abandoned beds and tables, bed sheets strewn untidily across the floor. Some of the rooms had collapsed, with more than half of the room rendered inaccessible. Even a place as far underground as this was not spared from The End, it seemed.

Eventually, he made his way to a room characterised by fallen bookshelves. Torn and ruined books seemed to have been flung across the room, some crushed under shelves and others turned to dust by sizzling embers, piling up next to fallen candles. Tip-toeing around the destruction, Castor realised that in the far back of the room, some bookshelves still stood, smaller ones that were likely more stable and harder to tip. The titles on the books’ spines had long since faded, their pages feeling more like old parchment than actual paper.

Absentmindedly, Castor picked up a random book and began flipping its pages, using his luminous hand as the equivalent of a table lamp. The pages spoke cryptically, of rites and rituals that were likely practiced by the worshippers here, from before The End. It spoke of their Legendary, the one they called the Time-Lord, and how he could be placated in various different ways. Interesting, Castor thought, but ultimately drivel.

Castor placed the book back on its shelf before leaving the room, deciding that it could offer him nothing. Exploring the other rooms brought about similar results, revealing places of worship, of meditation, of training and of rest. The initiates who came to worship this ‘Time-Lord’ no doubt did so as a lifelong pledge, living and breathing his scriptures. Unfortunately for Castor, the temple’s stores of food seemed to have been pillaged long ago, if they hadn’t been empty in the first place.

This trip may have been a wasted one.

Chiding himself, Castor refused to waste any more time indulging in this foolishness. He sought to find food, and he came up empty. Disappointing.

As he readied himself to climb back up the flight of stairs, he heard a voice. A soft and raspy whisper.

“You…” it said.

Castor turned back, only to face the empty pedestal once more. Then, silence. He waved his light around in an attempt to suss out who was there in the room with him. But to no avail. No one had spoke.

“Come…” the voice continued.

But it had spoke. Now Castor was sure of it. What did it want?

“Come…” the voice called.

It was clearer now. Soft as ever, but Castor knew where it came from now. Determined, he abandoned the exit and headed down the hallway, following his acute sense of hearing. It wasn’t long before he found himself essentially back where he started.

“The library,” Castor muttered under his breath. Why had the voice led him back to a room filled with ravaged books?

“Who are you? Show yourself!” he shouted into the darkness.

Castor took slow steps around the room, his quickened breath audible amidst the silence. The voice grew louder and louder, a cacophony of audible whispers echoing in his ears as he approached the back of the room, to the only shelf that still stood. Then, a tremor shook the room, dust falling from the ceiling as the books fell from the shelf. Castor crouched to retain his balance, the light from his palm snuffing out. In the darkness, the room shook, as if matching the growing crescendo of voices.

Then, silence once more. The voices halted. The tremor halted. The world came to a standstill.

Castor rose to his feet, brushing the dust off his cloak and illuminating his hand once more. Gingerly, he approached the shelf, realising that though the rest had fallen to the ground, one book remained on the shelf. He picked it up, flipping through what appeared to be empty pages. That is, until he flipped to the end. On the very last page was the only piece of writing, and as Castor read it aloud, he was filled with an undeniable sense of dread.

“Dusked End 3, an Ampharos stumbles across an abandoned Temple of Dialga. He discovers the Chronicle, and heralds the arrival of the Arc.”

 


	2. Chapter 1 - A New Dawn

_Kai_

**Chapter One**

Kai watched triumphantly as his aura rose to a blaze, one that towered him three times over.

Day after day, in the darkness of the expanse, he would find himself here – at the circle of stones that he’d designated as a makeshift arena – to train. The mastery of aura was merely the first step, and yet it had been a long and arduous one. It had taken him years to learn to blaze his aura, and years more to learn how to control it. This height was a new achievement, breaking the previous limit by more that half of his.

He still remembered what Castor had told him about his biology, when he first began his insistence on training. That Riolu could wield the life-force known as aura unlike any other, that they could learn to perceive it with bare eyes and learn to manipulate it with a conscious mind. Much of his time had been spent on aura training, isolated and away from the ramblings of other Pokémon that would only serve to disrupt his focus.

He had to grow stronger. Strong enough to protect everyone that he held dear.

“Not strong enough,” Kai muttered under his breath.

Castor had told him tales of the Lucario, masters of aura-weaving, and how crucial they had been in the wars before The End. Though Kai was sure any time would have been more pleasant than the Wasteland, the Ampharos would always solemnly remind him otherwise. That the decades leading up to The End had been nothing but chaotic.

“Liera had been desolated by us far before Arceus had done it,” Castor would always say, always in deep recollection, or perhaps reminiscence.

Born of the Wasteland, Kai had little connection to the world before this one. He had seen none of the verdant grasslands and radiant skies that Castor always dreamily seemed to remember, and yet his little mind couldn’t help but wonder what that old world was like.

“Useless drivel,” Kai reminded himself, “focus, Kai.”

Kai’s attention returned to his aura.

“Begin with familiar techniques,” he told himself aloud.

And begin, he did. Kai commanded his aura to quell its blaze, and it descended from its pillar. He readied a stance, his body low for stability, just as Castor had taught. Imagining his aura transforming, the amorphous force collected within his fist, becoming bolts of electricity that began to encircle his wrist.

“ _HYAAH!_ ” Kai thrust his fist forward, discharging the electricity into the air.

It hit nothing, for there was nothing to hit, but it felt comforting all the same that he could perform the technique with practiced speed. The thunder punch, a technique that he’d learned from Castor himself, though modified to suit his… biology. Where Pokémon like the elderly Ampharos had a natural affinity to lightning, a fighting-type like himself had to learn to mimic the spark by manipulating his aura. Though, as a Riolu, he had to admit that he had a slight advantage.

“Electricity down,” Kai told himself, “now let’s see about fire.”

Hours passed. The Riolu could barely notice time’s passage. The perpetual cloud of dust and smog that hovered over the sky shrouded the land in eternal darkness, though it was always ever so slightly darker and colder during the night. There was little else that the Riolu could do to occupy his time with. Beyond the chores and the secret missions, Kai knew that his place was here. Within the circle.

Within the heat of battle, no matter how imagined it may be.

After the twentieth attempt of trying to ignite his leg – and failing – he decided to call it quits for the day.

“A wise warrior knows when to keep fighting, and knows when to leave to fight another day,” Castor often said.

The Riolu reflected upon today’s attempts as he returned to the sanctuary. How peculiar it was, that the aura refused to collect in his fist when he thought of fire. Another of the many mysteries he’d discovered when focusing on the aura-art. As perhaps the only living Riolu left in the Wasteland, there was little he could do other than to experiment – trial and error. Even with Castor as a teacher, there was only so much the Ampharos could impart.

“Perhaps,” Kai mused to himself, “one day we’ll find the secrets of the Aura Guardians.”

His thoughts occupied his journey, until the stone walls of the sanctuary came into view.

Kai could faintly remember how the sanctuary had looked like just a few years prior, fifty-odd Pokémon huddling together beside a bonfire kept alight by the fire Pokémon that remained. They tried their hardest to survive in the wasteland, from which their homes and livelihoods had been robbed in an instant. Crumbling stone walls and pillars created a boundary for the sanctuary, the remains of a guildhall, Castor had once told him. Back then, there was little else.

Several years of grieving had since passed and the Pokémon of the sanctuary had pooled their efforts into making the place more liveable for themselves. The stone walls had been repaired by the strong Fighting-type Pokémon, using the rubble that the scavengers had brought back. The Fire-types kept the place warm, and the Grass-types had taken to making their section of the wasteland as farmable as possible, which so far had not been a futile attempt. Though the sanctuary was surviving on root crops and similarly hardy plants, it was significantly better than starving.

“Morning, Kai.” Amp, the Luxray on guard duty, greeted.

“To you, as well,” Kai responded.

“Castor’s been looking for you all morning,” Amp said, “I think it’s for something important. Rarely seen him this anxious.”

“That so? I’ll find him right away, thanks.”

That Castor was looking for him was telling – too telling. Rarely did he need Kai this early in the morning for anything else. And the old Ampharos did not like to be kept waiting. Even when the meetings were to benefit the Riolu – lessons and the like – Kai had been reprimanded to no limit for his tardiness.

Kai bobbed and weaved through the endless crowd until he to the stairwell that had lead underground.

Most of the sanctuary had been constructed underground to protect the Pokémon from the periodic dust storms that plagued the wasteland. Even with the robust stone walls, it was far from airtight, and it was simply safer – and warmer – to live beneath the earth.

Kai brushed past many Pokémon as he descended the stairs, many of them heading out to perform their daily errands. The scavengers would brave the wasteland, the farmers would tend to the crops, and the guards would… guard the place. The passages of the sanctuary were labyrinthine, each tunnel nearly identical to the last, flanked on both sides by numerous doors that lead to a variety of rooms.

“Mess hall, sleeping quarters, mission briefing room…” Kai recounted each hallway as he passed them, as he had done countless times before.

Soon, he found himself in front of Castor’s room. The elderly Ampharos was the leader of the sanctuary, who rose up as a leader to protect the fifty-odd Pokémon in need of shelter. Though the old ‘mon was almost always constantly cooped up in his chambers, poring over old texts, Kai had always admired him. An Ampharos who rallied disparate Pokémon together under a common cause.

Kai rapped on the stone door, entering Castor’s room. The old Ampharos was, as always, at work, his head buried in text while the red orb on his tail served as a lamp. Castor was powerful, significantly more so than Kai. In all his time spent around the old ‘mon, Kai didn’t think he’d ever seen him forced to dispel that glowing hand of his out of fatigue.

“Morning, Castor,” Kai greeted.

“Ah, Kai,” Castor said, raising his eyes to face the comparably small Riolu as he flipped the tome shut, “you’ve returned.”

Castor rose from his seat, walking over to give Kai an affectionate pat on the head before heading over to the shelves where he kept his supplies. Kai placed his paw over his ruffled fur as he walked over to where Castor once sat, taking a curious glance at the tome he was reading.

“This text,” Kai asked, “did it come from the dungeon we explored last week?”

“Huh?” The Ampharos responded, rummaging through his stocks of supplies, “Ah, that one. Yes, from the Vankor Ruins.”

“I take it you learned something?”

“From the text? Yes, hopefully something useful.” The Ampharos said, “You know, perhaps you should pick up Unown some time. It could serve you well in the future.

Unown. The language of the humans. Allegedly, Kai remembered from Castor’s teachings, humans once lived beside Pokémon, forming close bonds that could transcend even the power of the Legendary Pokémon. But humans vanished from Lieran history a long time ago, and not a single soul knew where they went. The only trace of their existence at all was the language they left behind, the primary language for much of the ancient texts.

“Maybe some time.” Kai said, knowing full well that the day would never come. He had never been interested in learning the language, always thinking it too frivolous a use of his time.

The Ampharos shrugged. “We still have much of the day left. I’ve found a new place for us to search today.” Then, silent enough to be a whisper, he said, “Maybe we’ll finally find what we’re looking for.”

Unknown to much of the sanctuary, Castor had been consumed by a single desire for the past four years. Kai remembered that day, when the Ampharos had returned from his search of the wasteland clutching a surprisingly intact book, completely blank save for the last page. Whatever writing was there was in Unown, unreadable to Kai, but over the years Castor had come to trust the Riolu with the secrets of his search.

The Ampharos had become obsessed with finding the Arc of Dialga. A tool, he said, could allow one of them to travel back in time to an age from before The End. Castor saw it as a second chance, a way to avert the crisis that replaced the pristine with the desolate. Kai cared little for the world before the wasteland, but he knew that it was important to Castor. So he helped. In secret.

There were some in the sanctuary, Kai knew, that would disapprove of Castor’s quest. Some would dismiss the notion of fixing the wasteland as futile and asinine, a hopeless cause. Kai was proof, however, that the Arc existed. The only question was where. Four slow years had passed and the duo had yet to turn up anything. Each time they went out, they came back either empty-handed or another piece of ancient text that Castor would spend days analysing. But no sign of the Arc.

“What is this new place?” Kai inquired.

“It’s not new,” Castor said, “we’re returning to the Temple of Dialga.”

“The temple? Why there? We’ve been there so many times and come up empty each time.”

“I’ve discovered something new. Something hidden within the Temple. It remains the most likely place of finding anything at all, at any rate.”

Kai couldn’t fault his reasoning. Searching for the Arc of Dialga had been an arduous and unfulfilled quest, but searching farther away from the Temple seemed counter-intuitive. From what the Ampharos had told him, the worship of Legendary Pokémon had fallen out of favour in the decades leading up to The End. It was unlikely that they’d find anything relating to Dialga beyond the temple. But they had to search. Or rather, Castor had to search.

“Alright.” Kai said, trying hard to hide his reluctance. Their search had come up with few clues as to their ultimate goal over the years.

Castor handed Kai a satchel filled with basic exploration supplies – a couple berries, a couple seeds, and other miscellaneous items.

“These are…”

“Dungeon tools,” Castor finished. “I have a feeling that we’ll be needing them today.”

Castor and Kai promptly left the room, hurrying past the rest of the sanctuary to the gate above ground. By now, midday would have long passed, and few Pokémon still remained underground. Most were off doing their duties, leaving the sanctuary eerily empty, save the guards. The guards on duty nodded at Castor as the two passed through the gate.

The two traversed the wasteland, Castor clutching the map that he’d charted of the wasteland’s landmarks – some natural, some artificial. The sanctuary’s navigators had taken to building stone landmarks of different shapes and sizes, as a way for the scavengers and other explorers to find their way. As a scavenger, Kai had to admit to their usefulness, beyond disrupting the monotony of dust and sand.

Passing Eagle’s Gaze – a rock formation in the shape of a Braviary reaching for the sky – they reached the sanctuary’s perimeter. A line of stones that encircled the sanctuary in a half-hour’s walk radius, separating the land we claimed as our own from the rest of the wasteland. Only scavengers were allowed past the line.

Leaving the perimeter, the duo relied on Castor’s self-made landmarks to guide their way. Nothing as fanciful or artistic as the navigators’ constructs, but stable enough to enable Castor’s return to places he’d explored before. Kai had been to the Temple of Dialga before, though he’d never particularly fancied returning to it. The place, though underground, was arguably more desolate than the wasteland itself, nothing like the liveliness of the sanctuary.

There was a coldness in that temple. Perhaps it was haunted.

“We’re here.” Castor said.

They’d arrived at the temple. Or at least, what remained of it. Kai could roughly imagine what it had looked like before The End, but its current state was a far cry from its supposed glory. Haphazardly scattered rubble and half-toppled pillars were the only thing that confirmed its existence at all.

“So what exactly are we here to find?” Kai asked.

They descended the stairwell, Castor lighting the way with his familiar flash. The darkness beyond the reach of the Ampharos’ light seemed sinister and thick, as if it were comprised of a thousand angry souls. Considering the history of the place, Kai wondered if that were far from the truth at all.

“A hidden passageway that leads deeper into the temple,” Castor responded, “it’s likely that the high priests here hid their secrets away from where initiates could reach.”

“We’ve didn’t find any hidden passageway the last time we came. What makes this time different?”

“You’ll see.”

The two reached the bottom of the steps, back in the grand chamber. The central altar, even devoid of its statue of Dialga, loomed over the room oppressively. Nothing had changed since the last time Kai had been here, the room was still a complete wreck, with miscellaneous debris scattered across the ground. The walls had cracks running through them, as if they’d collapse at any moment.

Castor moved the light from his paw to his tail as he approached the empty altar, kneeling down and rummaging through his satchel. Gingerly, he produced a piece of parchment and charcoal, as well as several wax candles.

“Arrange the candles in a hexagon,” Castor instructed, “and light them.”

Kai set to work placing the candles around the room as Castor took up the charcoal and began drawing a symbol on the parchment. Once Kai was done with the candles, he popped a Blast Seed into his mouth, feeling the seed dissolve into flames in his maw. He breathed the flames onto the candles, setting each one alight just as Castor finished his drawing.

Kai stepped back to let Castor do his work. The Ampharos placed the parchment in the centre of the circle of candles, a rune etched onto it unlike any that Kai had ever seen in the multitude of books that Castor owned. Raising his paws, the old ‘mon closed his eyes and began to chant.

“ _From the past we do learn, in the present we do act, and the future we do change. Upon this threshold where timelines intersect, give us sight, give us clarity, O Dialga of Time.”_

The rune glowed a cerulean blue as he chanted, gradually fading into specks of luminous dust as it tore from the parchment. As he finished, the rune vanished, and a violent gust of wind blew out the candles. In the darkness, Kai felt the atmosphere of the room shift. There was a newfound sense of calm overpowering the sinister, as if a light had come to banish the darkness. Then, a tremor, the sounds of stone shifting.

Castor illuminated the room once more. The room had changed. At the centre, the altar had moved from its position, revealing a staircase downwards where it had once stood.

“Let’s go,” Castor said, “and be on your guard.”

Retrieving his satchel, Castor led Kai down the stairs, the darkness here so looming that the only thing visible with Castor’s light were the steps immediately in front of them. Kai felt his legs tense as he descended the steps, the dark abyss immediately next to him threatening him with a deadly fall.

The stairs were crumbling from years of disrepair and neglect, the stone beneath them laced with random cracks that rose up into the walls. With each step, small fragments of the staircase seemed to break off and fall into the abyss below. The silence was deafening. Each fragment seemed to echo, reverberate.

Five long minutes passed. The staircase seemed to go on forever and ever. The darkness surrounding them didn’t seem to diminish, as endless as it seemed when they began their descent. Kai had begun to feel nauseous. The darkness seemed to suffocate and constrict. The stairs seemed to distort and blur, colours faded and shifted, and the atmosphere changed.

“Kai.”

Castor’s voice. Kai snapped to attention, his vision clearing. The Ampharos had been gripping onto Kai’s arm, now pointing at the ground below them. Unbeknownst to the Riolu, in his haze, they had reached the bottom of the stairwell. In the darkness, Kai could make out the shape of a door, or an arch.

Kai shook his head violently, slapping himself awake.

“Is that what we’re looking for?” The Riolu said, pointing at the silhouette of the door.

Castor nodded. “Watch your step.”

The Ampharos waved his light at the ground, revealing its threat. Nails as sharp as daggers protruded from the floor, camouflaging with the stone so as to be nearly unnoticeable. Castor trudged on ahead, taking careful steps around the rocks. Kai felt his paws brush up against the edges of the iron as he followed Castor’s footsteps, but soon they arrived at the door, unscathed.

“This leads deeper into the temple,” Castor said, “help me open it.”

Nodding, Kai joined Castor and placed his paws on the door. On Castor’s count, they heaved against the heavy stone, their combined might budging the stone ever so slightly as it scraped against the arch. As the door inched open, their surroundings seemed to tremble, the rock growing more unstable by the second. Dust tainted Kai’s blue fur as they pushed against the door, but to little avail. The door would not budge much more than this, yet the opening they created was too small for even Kai to squeeze through.

Kai felt his arms give out as he released the door. What little opening quickly closed up, shutting the duo out of whatever secrets it concealed within.

“Damn it,” Kai cursed under his breath, “we could be here for days and it won’t open.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Castor said, “we’ll try something else.”

Castor took a step back, motioning for Kai to remain at the door.

“On the count of three,” he instructed, “use your force palm on the door.”

Castor didn’t wait for a reply. He lowered his stance and pulled his arm back as it began glowing white. Kai took his signal and placed his paw on the door. He stared down the door intently, feeling his aura rise up like a roaring flame, rushing to his paws. The door’s cold stone began to grow warmer, the aura in Kai’s paws growing stronger and stronger.

Castor began to count. “One.”

Castor dashed forward. “Two.”

“Three!”

In an instant, Castor’s punch and Kai’s force palm bombarded the door with an immense force, the pebbles on the ground below them being flung back and crashed into the walls in a gust of forceful wind. The door swung open, resoundingly thumping against the walls of the chamber beyond. The way was open.

They hadn’t time to revel in their accomplishment. The force pulsated through the wall, exacerbating the cracks that formed. The stone above them fissured as the tremors around them magnified. The entire temple seemed as though it was about to crumble around them. The staircase behind them fractured, falling to the ground accompanied by bits of rock that emerged from the darkness above.

“Get in!” Castor shouted.

The duo rushed into the door as the hallway collapsed around them. Narrowly avoiding a falling boulder, Castor pulled Kai into the passage, the force of the landslide-like collapse propelling them deeper into the cave. The Ampharos’ body skidded across the ground as Kai was flung back into the wall.

Kai grunted as he rose to his feet to examine the situation, coughing the dust out of his burning lungs. The dust storm cleared to reveal the collapsed doorway, sealing them within the chamber. The rocks piled on like an overlapping weave, robust and airtight. There was no going back that way.

“Ughhh…” Castor rose to his feet, brushing the dust off his fur, “That is… unfortunate. We’ll have to find another way out.”

Kai examined himself. The impact of the rock had damaged him somewhat, but not enough to be immediately noticeable. With a collapse like that, he counted himself lucky to not be dead, much less barely injured.

“Tch,” Kai cringed from the sting of his cuts. He dug into the bag that Castor had prepared for him, thankful to find Oran berries. He sunk his teeth into one, relishing in the sweet juices of the fruit. Within seconds, the cuts had began to close; once again, Kai had to marvel at the healing properties of the now-scarce resource.

“Undamaged,” Castor muttered, “at least this trip won’t be a waste.”

Castor had been going through his inventory, and pulled out a set of strange cards that Kai had never noticed before.

_Had they been there the entire time?_ Kai thought. _Did they come from Castor’s room?_

Kai was only left with unanswered questions as Castor quickly re-packed his belongings and slung his satchel back on his person.

Kai stared at the pile of rubble and couldn’t kick the sense of dread at the back of his mind. As far as he knew, temples didn’t have back entrances that they could easily sneak out of. Especially for hidden chambers like this, which were meant to keep intruders out.

_Great,_ Kai silently cursed, _just another of Castor’s explorations gone wrong._

Castor seemed unfazed, however, as he beckoned Kai to join his side. Kai pushed the thought out of his mind. It was pointless to dwell on such a thing. At the very least, the items they had brought were undamaged. A couple apples for each of them, a couple Oran Berries. Hopefully, they’d last long enough.

The duo headed deeper into the chambers, with Castor taking almost random turns at each intersection. The rooms looked all the same to Kai, the intricate wall patterns seemingly identical no matter how far, or how long they explored. The only sound that accompanied them was the soft pitter-patter of paw against stone. It didn’t help that the darkness seemed to be constantly fighting against them, like a hungry wolf that sought to devour their very being. Castor’s light fought the darkness back, but it wasn’t wide enough to make Kai feel safe. Just another reminder of their hopeless situation.

“Castor,” Kai began, “do you know where you’re going?”

They’d been walking for an indeterminate amount of time when Kai started to feel the hunger building up in his belly. There was something bizarre about this place. It felt like they’d been walking for a long while, and yet Kai had a sinking feeling that they’d only entered the place not ten minutes ago. He felt his stomach growl louder with each passing step, the hunger pangs gradually becoming difficult to ignore.

“Eat before you collapse,” Castor said, “I’ll worry about navigation.”

“Not going to argue,” Kai said, nodding.

Reaching into the satchel, he pulled out the first apple and sunk his teeth into the crisp, dry fruit. Apples grown in the dust of the wasteland were pale comparisons to what he’d read about in books, but then they weren’t the ideal growing conditions for anything alive. Still, as Kai swallowed each bite, he felt the pains in his stomach subside, replaced with a filling, placid sensation. He wasn’t full, but his satiety would last a little longer.

The endless, twisting maze of passages didn’t seem to change or shift as they kept walking. Each passage seemed as identical as the last, even though Castor seemed to lead with a sense of certainty and confidence. Yet, even with Castor leading the way with his light, Kai couldn’t shake the eerie atmosphere that engulfed the place. The creeping feeling that someone – or something – was watching their every move sent shivers down his spine. His normally warm fur felt pierced by a malicious, sinister cold.

“We’re here.”

Castor pointed to the hallway in front of them, waving his _Flash_ about to illuminate the shimmering glass-like air. Kai noticed now, squinting in the light, that the air in front of them seemed to shift and distort, reminiscent of the stairs that flowed and faded in their earlier descent. The hallway seemed fluid, almost, its blurry fluctuation sharply contrasted against the distinct definition of their immediate surroundings.

“What is that?”

“You mean you haven’t noticed? We’ve been in a Mystery Dungeon for the past twenty minutes.”

The realisation suddenly dawned on Kai. The accelerated hunger, the constant feelings of dizziness, the visual distortions. All characteristic of a place locked in a perpetually unstable space-time. The feared Mystery Dungeons, where Pokémon who got lost in its labyrinthine passages were doomed to wander its halls for eternity, trapped. Time, which always seemed so constant in the outside world, was as fluid as the water that they drank.

It seemed fitting that the Arc of Dialga, that of the time-lord, would be found in a Mystery Dungeon.

“The next floor, then?” Kai asked.

Castor nodded. Mystery Dungeons, in all their randomness, had restrictions as well. Rules that, for some cosmic reason, they all seemed to follow. Division of areas into “floors”, was one of them.

The two walked into the distortion, feeling the hallway around them fade and melt away until, for the briefest of moments, there was only darkness that surrounded them, one so endless that even Castor’s glowing hand was insignificant. Then, the dungeon reconstructed itself, the familiar walls of the temple melding back into existence. Similar, yet noticeably different.

They had progressed.

And the exploration continued, as it had before. The next floor was structurally identical to the last, the patterns on the walls seemingly indistinguishable. But there was something different about the atmosphere here.

_Something’s here. I can feel… aura._

And Kai felt his fists clench. His eyes bolted from left to right.

They kept walking.

_Grrr…_

Kai stopped. Castor stopped. They’d both heard that. They were not alone in these hallways. Castor began waving his glowing hand to and fro, as if trying to suss out the source, but the darkness was a powerful cloak. Kai had a better detector. Squinting in the darkness, he felt his eyes tense up, the world draining of colour into grey-scale. Aura became visible once more, his bright orange and Castor’s verdant green being the brightest in his vision.

_Where are you? Show yourself!_

Kai spun his head around, peering into the darkness. As good of a cloak it was, it couldn’t hide the life force of Pokémon. And hide the threat it could not. In the darkness, down a hallway, was a dim, but perceptible, grey aura. Despite its small size, it blazed with anger, with desperation.

“There!” Kai pointed to the darkness. Castor was quick, charging up a yellow ball in his hand and firing it at Kai’s signal. The ball struck the earth, exploding in a burst of crackling electricity. Out from the darkness, barely scratched, jumped a Aipom. Its body was cloaked in the remnants of tattered, blue robes, and its eyes were milky-white, blanked over. Covered in scratches and bruises, the Pokémon was snarling with a forceful fury, its tail poised to deliver its first strike.

And strike, it did. The Aipom’s fist-like tail began to glow white as it charged at Kai, leaping at the Riolu. Kai leapt backwards as the Aipom swung its tail sideways, and quickly stepped to the side just as the tail came down on him for its second hit. Evading both hits, Kai drove his glowing fist into the Aipom’s stomach, sending it flying back. The monkey Pokémon crashed against the wall, cracking the stone from the impact.

_It’s still not dead,_ Kai thought, _not yet._

It began snarling with a renewed vigour and leapt at the duo with its arms glowing bright white. A flash of yellow halted the Aipom in its tracks, another ball of electricity striking the monkey straight in its face. It fell straight to the ground, its body now twitching as arcs of electricity laced its limbs.

The Aipom was now grunting as it struggled to stand, its heavy breaths alternating with its angered growls. It was limping now, partially paralysed from the electric shock. With what limited movement it had, however, it waved its hand and summoned forth glowing stars, firing them at Castor.

But Kai was prepared for his opponent’s next attack. With his arms already crossed, his body was cloaked in a vibrant blue aura as he opened his eyes. In one movement, he opened them, thrusting the wind that he’d gathered forward in a violent shock wave, slicing through the stars like a knife through paper as it struck the Aipom square in the face. From the dust, the monkey’s eyes were visibly glazed over. The battle was over.

The Aipom collapsed to the ground, finally defeated. Then, before Kai could approach it, it was cloaked in the distortion, which swallowed it up like a ravenous wolf would devour its prey. The Aipom’s body appeared to split in jagged pieces, though that was surely the fractious nature of the Mystery Dungeon’s spatial distortions. Soon, there was no trace of the monkey left, as if it were never there in the first place.

“What was that? A feral?”

“No,” Castor said, pondering, “it couldn’t have been. Perhaps the effects of The End were far greater than we know.”

“What do you mean?”

A growl in the distance interrupted Kai’s question.

“Move. Quickly. We have to get out of here before we’re overwhelmed by the rest of them.”

Kai had his aura sight flipped on almost constantly as they navigated through the winding passages. They bolted through the hallways, careful to avoid any passage with any sign of aura down them. Each aura, strangely, was just as dull and grey as the Aipom from before. Unprecedented. No two aura signatures were supposed to be the same, not even between twin Pokémon. And yet…

“All these auras are the same,” Kai said, “How?”

“They’re not ferals,” Castor rambled, “ferals wouldn’t be wearing any shred of clothing, not even those scavenged from lost travellers.”

And yet, the Aipom from earlier was very clearly wearing the remnants of a robe of some kind. They had been clothed once, perhaps even civilised. What had happened to them that they became berserk, to that degree? So beaten, so battered. Kai shivered at the thought.

The dungeon passed in a flash now. All hesitation faded as they tried their best to evade the hostiles in the dungeon. Each time they entered a distortion, the dungeon would fade to the next floor, and it seemed as though the feral-like Pokémon that chased them through the dungeon couldn’t follow. At least, with each floor, they seemed to enjoy a sort of reset with hostility. Though, with each floor, came a new set of hostiles.

Two, three, four. Kai kept track of the number of floors they passed. With each distortion gate, the fractious temporal flow of the Mystery Dungeon became much more apparent. Kai had already gone through almost all of his apples at this point, with each floor making him hungrier and hungrier. Yet, they couldn’t possibly have spent more than five minutes on each floor as they rushed through the dungeon.

With the accelerated hunger came also accelerated healing. Even as they battled through the hordes of enemy Pokémon, Kai found the cuts that he’d sustained vanish, almost as if by magic, by the next encounter. They’d brought Oran Berries along for healing cuts and bruises, but it seems the dungeon was doing enough for them to get by. The same couldn’t be said for apples, though.

“There!”

In the distance, another distortion. Only this one, instead of being in the middle of a hallway, fractured the image of a staircase leading upwards. They’d finally reached the end, Kai knew it. They had to.

Standing in between them and the stairs was a Tyrogue, eyes just as mindless as every other Pokémon in the dungeon. The Pokémon of every floor they passed seemed to be less and less battered as they progressed, with this Tyrogue’s robes almost entirely intact save for a few tears here and there.

The robes were dark blue, with metallic grey lines outlining the hood and cape. Emblazoned on the front of the robes was a symbol unfamiliar to Kai, though with how much they’d been fighting he was sure he could guess what it represented.

The Tyrogue charged, its fist glowing light blue, poised to strike Kai straight in the face. The opponent zipped past the Riolu into the wall behind as Kai dodged it, using his aura to supercharge his legs. From where it stood, the Tyrogue crossed its arms, sending forth a wave of energy at the duo, but Kai quickly retaliated with his own, the two shockwaves exploding into dust as they collided.

Castor quickly responded before the Tyrogue could react, firing another electric sphere at the fighting-type, hitting it for a significant amount of damage. The Ampharos’ attacks were forceful, significantly more so then Kai’s and the Tyrogue was quickly on its knees. Kai rushed forward with blinding speed _,_ blasting it back into the wall with his force palm attack, and the Tyrogue quickly faded, swallowed by the dungeon’s mysterious anomalies.

Finally. Their final obstacle was gone. Castor beckoned Kai to his side as they passed through the final distortion, and ascended the stairs.

And then, silence returned. The atmosphere was still, tranquil, almost. A far cry from the sense of danger and malice of the previous floors. As Kai and Castor ascended with slow steps, the calm pattering of paw against stone filled the air. Kai never knew the sounds of footsteps would be so welcome.

“What,” Kai said in between breaths, “were those things? You said they weren’t ferals, but-”

“No,” Castor interrupted, “not ferals. Perhaps something far worse. Focus on the mission for now, I’ll explain when we get back.”

Then, at a volume so soft Kai could barely hear, Castor muttered to himself. “Hopefully, they won’t leave this place.”

At the top of the steps, the room expanded into a small chamber, the stone noticeably more golden than the rooms below. There was a certain glitter and sheen that exuded from the place, granting it a sense of opulence. The walls were covered from top to bottom with shelves and chests, ancient tomes and scrolls blending seamlessly with Orbs and Scarves.

“Is this a treasure room?” Kai asked.

“Likely the temple’s vault,” Castor said, “probably the temple’s most guarded secret. Don’t touch anything on the shelves, they’re not what we’re here for.”

Castor approached the centre of the room, where a tree-like structure rose from the ground. Coated in a golden stone, it was decorated with detailed carvings, with the symbol that Kai had seen earlier carved on the ‘trunk’ of the tree. Unown script covered the tree, encircling it into a virtually unreadable passage, intercalated with artful murals that depicted a familiar story.

“The Legend of Dialga.” Kai said, approaching the tree.

Castor nodded. “One of the Chapters. Not surprising to find it here.”

Kai brushed his paws over the stone, feeling the indentations beneath it. His breath slowed as he marvelled at its craft, something so unlike anything he’d ever seen before. He circled the tree as Castor ruffled through his satchel, laying those bizarre, arcane-looking cards on the ground in front of the tree. Kai barely noticed Castor’s arrangement of the cards as he examined the murals, so detailed that they seemed to come to life from out of the stone.

The tale of Dialga, one older than Time itself, of how it descended from the heavens with the rest of the gods, along with Arceus, and brought the flow of time to the mortal realm. So famed was this tale, that Kai had seen it many times in Castor’s library. It was nothing foreign, nothing new. Yet, seeing it depicted in this way…

“It’s beautiful,” Kai said.

“No doubt,” Castor absentmindedly replied, “the temple is ancient, and the architects of the ancient world were Pokémon of unmatched talent.”

“What are you doing?”

Castor looked up to address the Riolu. “Arranging these Entercards. Hopefully, they will be the key to what we’re here to find.”

Entercards. A familiarly foreign term to Kai’s mind. The Ampharos must have mentioned it in passing, at least once before, yet he knew little about them. What exactly was Castor trying to do?

Kai would soon find out, it seemed, as Castor stepped back and admired his handiwork. On the ground, amidst the roots of the golden tree, were the set of arcane ‘Entercards’ arranged in a peculiar order. Six cards in total, each with similar, yet radically different designs, covered in curved lines that overlapped one another.

“Step back, Kai.” Castor said, gesturing for the Riolu to get behind him.

Kai watched as Castor raised his hands to the sky, his body beginning to glow as his aura spiked to visible levels. The atmosphere tensed as a mild pressure percolated through the air, and the Entercards began to glow. Wisps of golden light flitted up from the cards, creating a column of luminescence that only served to magnify the golden tree’s magnificence.

“Upon this threshold, I open thee,” Castor chanted, “traverse across time, space and dimensions.”

Then, from the Entercards burst forth a beam of shining light, blindingly illuminating the room as three red, concentric rings emerged in quick succession, circling the column of light. Streaks of light rose from the floor to the ceiling as the light became encircled by amorphous, red shapes. The column of light seemed to fade, being replaced by an orange, swirling gate that expanded from where the Entercards were placed.

_A Magnagate,_ Kai thought.

And then, the room became engulfed in light.


End file.
